


Cold Lonely Light

by LJ_Ricci



Category: Elton John (Musician)
Genre: 1980s, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Behaviour, Becoming Emotionally Attached, Blind Devotion, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cannes, Cocaine, Devotion, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, I'm Still Standing - Music Video Set, Mild Sexual Content, Partying, Self-Destruction
Language: Español
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJ_Ricci/pseuds/LJ_Ricci
Summary: A young woman is hired on as Elton's personal assistant and suffers the pain of growing fond of him despite his self-destruction.
Relationships: Elton John & Personal Assistant
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Cold Lonely Light

“Elton, I found your glasses again.” Lori pulled a pair of gold Cartier frames from her handbag and slid them across the table to him.

This was the third pair of these glasses she'd had to order for him in the last week and a half. One pair lost. One pair crushed. Another thrown from the window of the car in a rage. She was NOT going to call the Cartier store, making excuses for his negligence, and ask them to order yet another pair. The clerk's snarky tone of voice the last time had made her cringe. It was just embarrassing now.

“Oh, thank you, love. You know, I really haven't any idea what I'd do without you. I've never had an assistant be quite so attentive.” He snapped them open and slid them onto his face before taking a swig of his third vodka martini. They'd only been in the hotel restaurant for half an hour.

“You're welcome. Maybe you should try to be a bit more aware when you take them off. I nearly couldn't find them this time.” She glanced at him over the rim of her iced tea glass, gauging his reaction to her gentle admonishment. She'd seen him fly off the handle for much less.

Elton smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “Yes, you're right. Perhaps I should.”

She sighed. “Let's get going then. You don't want to be late back on set.”

“Go on without me, darling. I need to run up to my room. Tell them I'll be there in a few minutes.”

She had finished her salad. Elton had nothing but vodka for lunch...again.

**************

Lori had been helping her Mother as an unofficial assistant for a few years, since fresh out of high school. Working in the fashion industry arranging runway shows for designers, her Mother often overheard news and gossip about celebrities who attended the shows or frequented the boutiques. It's very much a who-knows-who kind of business. She handed Lori a card one day and told her to call. Elton John was looking for a new personal assistant and besides, didn't she think it was high time to cut the apron strings?

She had waffled about making the call, having never actually applied for a job and, having heard the gossip of Elton's legendary tantrums, frankly, she'd been scared. With her Mother threatening to cut her off from paid work, she bit the bullet and now here she is, in Cannes, having lunch with Elton between takes of his new video that's being shot on the beach just outside. A few strings had most likely been pulled, she figures, but she's adjusted well to her new state of employ. Elton is easy to get along with. Lori has seen him throw some harsh words at people, but never at her. He's always been very sweet with her. Maybe the fact that she's thirteen years his junior, still young, fresh, and inexperienced has something to do with it.

***************

“Hey, Lori!” She heard the director, Russell, call as she was huddling under an umbrella, plastering some more sunscreen on her pale northern skin. “Where's Elton? We were supposed to get started again five minutes ago.”

“Who knows. He said he had to run upstairs for a minute. Is he always this flaky?” she inquired. In the ten days she'd been with him, Elton hadn't once been on time. Before Russell could answer her, Elton exploded out the double doors and onto the beach.

“I'm here! I'm ready! Let's get this thing done!” The doors swung shut behind him as Elton bounded onto the sand in his suit and boater, almost tripping over his feet. Russell shot a look to Lori and rolled his eyes.

Elton rubbed his nose and paced back and forth while the choreographer directed the dancers. Cameras rolled and he just couldn't get it right. He forgot the words. “Cut!” He collapsed into a fit of laughter. “Cut!” He flung his glasses into the sand and stormed off toward the bar. “Cut!”

“Elton!” Lori chased after him, scooping up his glasses mid-stride. He was right, she was more attentive than someone else in her position might have been. Though she hadn't been with him long, she already felt quite close to him. The nature of the job made her his constant companion.

“Fuck off, Lori!” he yelled, several yards ahead of her. She stopped in her tracks at the sensation of her heart being suddenly and viciously gripped. The squeezing intensified until she felt the burning of tears begin to well in her eyes. Running to the restroom before anyone saw, least of all Elton, she locked herself in a stall and sobbed. They were only a couple of words, but they had utterly crushed her. Retreating to her room for the rest of the day, Lori told herself that she didn't really care if she were fired and sent home tomorrow, but the tears wouldn't stop. That evening, Russell called up to inform her that the rest of the day had been a failure. A complete waste. Elton had managed to down four more martinis before he was dragged back to the set where he proved to be completely useless. And did she happen to know where he was right now? Because none of them had a clue.

“I should have stayed and helped him.”

*****************

She wrapped her robe around her and tucked his glasses into the pocket. She had washed the sand off and cleaned them up. When she found him, he was in his suite. She called through the door a few times before she knocked and noticed it was ajar. Elton was lying on his stomach on the bed, still in his suit and shoes, hat on the bedside table. Lori sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “Why are you doing this to yourself, you darling man?” she whispered as she softly pet his head. She carefully removed his shoes and covered him with a blanket, tucking it in around him until he was nestled in a cocoon. Nearly shutting the door behind her, she remembered, “Oh, his glasses.” She crept back in, pulled them from her pocket and laid them on the table next to his hat. She clicked the lamp off and left.

The phone rang a few times before it woke her. “Hello?” she answered barely audible and rubbing her eyes.

“I was surprised not to see you at breakfast. When I asked after you, I was told how absolutely awful I had been to you yesterday! Please accept my apology, darling. I don't remember a thing and I'm so sorry to have treated you badly. I'm sending a breakfast tray up to you. Please take the morning off and I'll see you for lunch, alright?”

“Ok, Elton,” she was still wiping the sleep from her eyes as he hung up and it took her brain a few seconds to catch up with his words. They sounded almost rehearsed, like he had spoken them many times before. Though it didn't feel entirely sincere, she wasn't being sent packing. She hadn't lost her job. Breakfast arrived with a fragrant bouquet of flowers.

*******************

She was no longer exempt from his outburts and was acutely aware of this as she watched him over the rim of her glass again. They sat at the same table as yesterday. Elton drinking his lunch, same as yesterday. He had his glasses on but apparently hadn't wondered how they'd ended up back in his room this morning. “Maybe...maybe you should stop after that one, Elton. Maybe if we all keep our heads clear, we can wrap up quickly today. What'dya think?”

Lori visibly braced herself, squinting her eyes shut, when she saw his face darken for a moment before giving his drink a quizzical look and pushing it away. “I think you're right. Let's get this thing done. I'm ready to unwind a bit.” Elton would be staying in Cannes on holiday for a few weeks after. Lori wasn't sure what he had planned for this holiday, but she was sure it couldn't possibly involve any more drink and drugs than she'd seen him consume over the last several days.

Shooting went surprisingly smoothly the rest of the day; Elton holding it together, relatively sober. That was a wrap. They were done. Her contract stated that she was to head home until Elton was back and needed her again. As it was their last night there and everyone was feeling rather accomplished and pleased with themselves, the booze flowed freely and they closed down the bar. Lori had seen Elton quietly leave awhile ago but she hadn't seen him return. Her eyes scanned the room carefully. Nope. It hadn't been that long, had it?

The scene in his suite was much different from last night. She caught the door behind an arriving guest and the smoke hit her in the face instantly. Choking, eyes stinging, she blinked and squinted, looking around at the entire place packed with bodies. Like a debauched fantasy, whatever your pleasure, you could take it here. There was a group of men in the corner, sharing a spliff. Through to the bedroom, there were three naked young men on the bed, doing what you do when you're naked in bed with someone. Surrounding the bed were more men, watching the show; some with pants around their ankles, some rubbing their hardness through their trousers. On through to the living room and there was Elton, crouched over the glass coffee table with a straw up his nose, a dozen more party-goers sitting around in a circle, waiting for their own lines. Standing in the doorway, she watched him take one last big snort, lift his head with a hearty laugh, and look right at her. His face, red, tired, and worn, immediately fell. He jumped up quickly, knocking a glass of whisky over and turning their mountain of precious white powder into a muddy lake. “Fucking hell!”

Lori turned and ran. Ran from the room. Ran from the suite. Ran to the elevator. Ran down the hall. Slammed her door behind her and ran still, to the toilet, just in time to spill her guts into it. Collapsing into a heap on the cold tile, she cried until her eyes were swollen and her chest ached.

**************

Four o'clock. The numbers glowed red in her bleary eyes.

“Lori,” he whispered with a soft rap on the door. “Lori, are you awake? Can I come in? Please be awake.” She couldn't say no. She was learning that she could never say no to him.

He was in his robe and slippers but still wore his glasses and hat. He was too inebriated to know better. She led him to her bed and, as she sat him down, he collapsed into her. “Oh, Elton, love,” she sighed, her voice wavering. She didn't think she had any left, but she felt the tears coming again as she wiped a remnant of self-abuse from his nose. She laid him down, gently removing those gold frames and placing them next to his hat on the bedside table again. She should feel relieved. This would all be over tomorrow until he needs her again. Curled up beside him, she wrapped her arm tightly around him and tried to force down the tears and the burning in her chest.

“But he needs me now...”


End file.
